Worth so much
by KHwhitelion
Summary: Noah Bennet is rarely graced with free time. But after pulling some strings....or forcefully protesting....he finally has the chance to spend Christmas at home. Father daughter bonding. short, sweet, merry Christmas!


**It's about midnight, almost December 24, and I, being filled with Christmas spirit, was struck with the idea to write a short, sweet one-shot involving one of my favorite characters in 'Heroes.' It's my first time writing for this fandom, but I really wanted to write something for Christmas, so here is the end result!**

He didn't come home often—with all the work that was involved in his job, he hardly had a moment to himself or his family anymore. No matter the situation: birthday, vacation….or even a simple family dinner: his job had a habit of interrupting his life at the worst possible times. It wouldn't have been so bad had be still been a bachelor—as a single man, it was easy to handle the kind of work he was involved in. However, he had waved good-bye to a solo life long ago. And bidding adieu to no "hasty apologies" or "fragmented explanations" had been part of that. Currently a husband as well as a father had him leading a life of dark secrets and cryptic lies. And though it pained him greatly, he knew the less his family knew about his job kept them all the more safe.

Swinging his briefcase at his side, Noah Bennet tread across his snow-covered lawn, a rare smile of sincerity etched into his face. So many times in the past he had been called away—forcing his family to celebrate the holidays without the man of the house present. But not this year. No. _This_ year, he _had_ managed to wrestle some free time out of The Company—if only for a few days; he was their best 'ordinary' men after all—and planned on a temporary-stress free Christmas in his own home, _instead_ of on the road, as usual.

Now standing in front of the house, the middle-aged man raised his free hand and rapped against the wooden surface of the door.

"Hello?" A hesitant, but familiar, teenage voice called, "Who is it?"

He chuckled lightly to himself, recognizing the wariness his daughter's tone. A couple months exposed to his line of work had taught the girl to look before she leaped—something a year or two ago she wouldn't have thought to do in something so simple as answering the door.

"_Hello_?" She repeated, wondering why the one on the other side hadn't yet answered.

He shook his head, silently proud of her actions. "It's me, Claire-bear," he responded, taking a step back in preparation for the girl's next action.

As he predicted, the handle on the door clicked, and within a moment, the door swung away, revealing an average-height, teenage girl with long blond hair tiled back in a low ponytail. Though a lively spirit filled her eyes, he could tell by the dampness dotting her face that she'd been working hard.

"So….do you like it?" His daughter asked, twirling slightly in her stance. Noah blinked for a moment before catching on to what the girl meant by 'it.' She was wearing what appeared to be a read sweater—that clung a little too tightly to her body, he noticed—decorated in a white poof at the sleeves, obviously mimicking the classic outfit worn by Santa Claus. The sweater itself was open, a white, rhinestone trimmed tank-top underneath. Her pants, unlike Saint Nick, were black, and instead of boots, she had snowmen-headed slippers adorning her feet. However, the most outrageous accessory was the furry Santa hat worn at an angle on her head.

"Well, you've certainly gotten into the Christmas spirit this year, Claire," he speculated, nodding at her attire, "makes me look like an old 'stuffed shirt'"

Claire laughed, finding the compliment in her father's answer. "Standing out in the middle of the snow with a briefcase and suite on during the holidays _make_ you look like a stuffed shirt, dad." She countered playfully, grabbing his arm and pulling him through the doorway. Once fully inside, Noah dropped his bag and opened his arms. Claire, however, looked at him, playfulness gone from her expression.

"Are you _really_ staying this year?" She asked, similar in the way a child would ask their parents if they were sure no monsters lived under their bed.

The man in the horned-rimmed glasses nodded once more, his already present smile broadening. "I promise." He assured her. "No cell calls, no taser, no Company. Just me, you, Lyle and your mother."

It was as if a fragment of light had exploded from Claire as the worry in her expression broke away, and she rushed over to accept her father's embrace. "Merry Christmas, Claire-bear." Noah said, wrapping his arms around his daughter.

"Merry Christmas, dad." She replied, feeling no need to mask the relief in her voice.

They stood like that for a while—father and daughter—before Claire straightened, stepping out of the hug, and instead taking her father's wrist. "Now come on," she continued, as if there had been no break in their conversation, "I need your help putting the star on the tree."

As he was being dragged towards the living room, Noah couldn't help but wonder how he managed to get so lucky this past year. His family was in one piece, his daughter still in his custody rather than under close examination by The Company, he himself had just about faced death and survived….and now this. Finally graced with an opportunity to spend the most sacred, most important holiday of all, with the ones he loved most. And nothing, not even the satisfaction of putting away those with level five abilities, had ever been worth so much.

**Merry Christmas, everyone!**


End file.
